It's (Not Really) a Bad Habit
by Arclur97
Summary: Ever since Poiyo was six, he's had a bad habit of falling asleep on people - and now that he has a roommate, his bad habit is becoming a real problem.


Notes: (1.) I tried to sort-of stick to Poiyo and Ron's fan-page personalities, and both have their normal half-white-half-skyblue/midnightblue-black hair colors and red/green eyes (respectively). I don't mention much about their appearances, because I figure if you're reading this you know everything there is to know about them, down to the ties on Ron's shirt and the exact hex of Poiyo's tie.

(2.) If you're someone who just clicked on this story for a change of scenery, it would be a good idea to open a new tab and google them really quickly.

(3.) Poine is in this story! She plays matchmaker (or the friend that is always keeping all of her other friends in line, take your pick).

Have fun!

 _(I don't own any Utauloids/books mentioned in this story.)_

* * *

Poiyo has a bad habit of falling asleep on people. He learned this when he woke up on his sixth birthday, hopelessly cuddled around Poine, who had stayed over for a celebratory sleep-over. Poine still teases him about it, even though it happened twelve years ago.

He is low on money so, thanks to Poine, he is getting a roommate to help pay the rent - which is why he is suddenly thinking about his weird habit. If he and his roommate happen to be sitting on the couch and Poiyo falls asleep, there will be fallout when they wake up cuddling on the couch. Poiyo is too lazy to deal with fallout - He's barely motivated to make his own breakfast. He especially doesn't want to deal with fallout that _never leaves_ because the person that he has a problem with _lives with him._

So, this fear leads to Poiyo using non-existent funds to buy a brand-new armchair so they do not have to sit on the same couch. When he texts Poine about it, she thinks it is hilarious.

 _You bought another chair just because you're too lazy to handle a relationship? That's the funniest thing I've heard all week._

 _Shut up, Poine._

She doesn't text back immediately, which means that she's just sitting on her couch and smiling, which is actually the way Poine has giggle-fits. He's almost managed to fall asleep when his phone buzzes again, nearly vibrating off the coffee table.

 _Just wait until you meet him._

Poiyo doesn't know what that's supposed to mean. And he doesn't care, because he's already dropping the phone back on the coffee table and burying his head in a throw pillow.

When Poiyo first meets Ron, he does not make a good impression, if any at all. He is like a ghost; thin, tall, pale - not as pale as Poiyo, but close - and unbelievably quiet. As he moves across the hallway and up the stairs of Poiyo's - _their_ \- apartment, he doesn't make a sound. He disappears a moment later, and not even his luggage is making noise, which is ridiculous because he has two bags and a carry-on. Poiyo is momentarily convinced that Ron is either supernatural or a fairy, because people don't move like that.

Admittedly, he is really attractive. With green eyes like that, he could have jumped out of a magazine. And that hair. If Poiyo cared, he probably would have gaped when Ron walked in. He thinks to text Poine and tell her that the eye candy is here, but he is lying on the couch under a blanket, all wrapped up and super comfortable. The phone is on the coffee table, but the coffee table is a foot away. She'll find out soon anyway.

Without giving his roommate another thought, he falls asleep.

And seemingly moments later he is gently shaken awake by someone; he blinks rapidly, ready to tell Poine to go away, but the hand is wrong. It's bigger than hers, even if it is just as delicate. Then he remembers that Ron is here. The green eyes he looks up into jog his memory.

"What," he says irritably, and realizes too late saying that was probably not the best way to make a new friend.

"Just wanted to thank you for showing me around," says Ron, calmly.

"You're welcome," Poiyo replies.

Ron walks away, still unnaturally quiet. Poiyo gets the vague impression that he just got the cold shoulder from his roommate. Belatedly, probably because Poiyo's tired, he thinks that maybe Ron and ice should be friends. They have enough in common; he's cold and unfeeling, ice is cold and unfeeling - they'd be best friends. His head assaults him with an image of Ron ice skating, all green eyes and rosy cheeks and pink nose, and he immediately drops the train of thought out of embarrassment.

The first week after Ron moves in is uneventful. Poiyo is fine with this. They both pretend that the other doesn't exist - Ron because he probably doesn't have a soul, and Poiyo because he doesn't care enough to acknowledge him.

There is no talking in the mornings. This is mostly because Poiyo doesn't get out of bed until ten, and by that time Ron is almost out the door. Poiyo isn't awake enough to think about anything except sleep at that time anyway, and when Poiyo finally wakes up and eats breakfast, the one meal that he - for some weird reason - doesn't skimp out on, Ron is gone. All the more space to himself.

After breakfast, Poiyo goes to work. He works from home, so the workplace is about four or five yards from the kitchen, _thank God._

He hears Ron come home at around seven each night, and wraps up his projects a short while after. Then he walks into the living room, stretches out on the couch, and naps. Ron is usually there when he arrives, either eating dinner or reading something. He falls asleep thinking about what it might be like if Ron read something to him; he has an amazing voice, so Poiyo can only imagine what it would be like to hear him talk for longer than five seconds - then he wakes up at around eleven, and crawls into bed. This is their everyday routine.

He is convinced now, actually, truly convinced, that Ron is an ice king with magical green eyes and pretty black hair. Then he wakes up early one morning - _how_ he manages to wake up early is unknown - and finds the king of ice, snow, and all things frosty making _cookies_.

Poiyo can only say one coherent thing. "Uh."

Ron continues stirring the cookie dough as though Poiyo isn't there. Poiyo distantly thinks the batter might be chocolate chip. Finally, Ron says, "I'm making cookies."

"I see," says Poiyo. He is so confused.

"Why are you making cookies?"

"They're good."

That's true, but Poiyo still can't wrap his head around cold, quiet Ron making _cookies_. It just doesn't make sense. So he stares for a while, then decides he doesn't have the energy to push the issue. Nor, when he thinks about it, does he care enough to do anything about it, so he leaves the kitchen, curls up on the couch, and falls asleep almost instantly.

Ron doesn't say anything about the blanket or the plate of cookies Poiyo wakes up with. Poiyo doesn't ask about them either.

The next morning, Poiyo wakes up early again, and is really freaked out because his clock reads eight o'clock; he has not seen his clock read that so early since Poine woke him up to get coffee a month ago. He walks down carpeted steps, rubbing at his eyes - because even if his legs are awake and ready to go, the rest of him isn't- then stumbles down the last few stairs into the living room. Ron is already sitting in the armchair, reading. Poiyo heads straight for the couch and buries his head in the juncture of the top and bottom couch cushions, where it's cold and quiet and _dark_.

"Good morning," Ron says.

"Unf."

A quiet snort comes from Ron's general direction. Poiyo doesn't care.

"You don't like being awake."

He hopes the sound he makes is taken as agreement.

"Are you always this tired?"

"Eeah."

"And lazy?"

"Yem."

Ron pauses, and Poiyo takes his head out of the cushions because it's getting a little hard to breathe. "You don't talk much," deadpans Ron.

"You don't either," Poiyo retorts.

"I'm used to roommates who talk."

"I'm used to finding my own blankets and no cookies."

"You're not complaining."

"No."

"I'm not either."

"Yay you."

After that exchange, the ice lifts, and they somehow basically become friends. Poiyo continues to not care about Ron, but he'll wake up early sometimes and talk to him, or sit with him if he's reading- or make them both breakfast, if he's feeling really generous. Ron doesn't seem to care either, even though Poiyo wakes up with a blanket draped over him when he can't recall using one. Sometimes tea finds its way to the coffee table without Poiyo having to lift a finger. So, no, he's not complaining.

One Saturday, Poiyo wakes up, goes downstairs for lunch, and finds a sandwich in the fridge. There's a note stuck to the plastic wrap.

 _Made you lunch. You're welcome. Skimp out again and I will booby-trap the couch._

And Poiyo realizes that wow, Ron knows him really well. He writes back: _do that and I'll booby-trap the foyer._

Later that evening he wakes up to a cup of tea and another note.

 _No you won't._

So, a prank war that lasts until eight on Sunday ensues, and Poiyo learns that Ron really isn't cold at all. Poiyo loses the prank war when Ron actually does booby-trap the couch. With confetti. Over the course of the next two months, their 'friendship' surpasses 'basically friends' and jumps straight to 'best friends,' bypassing 'good friends' altogether. So, naturally, it is only a matter of time before Ron asks Poiyo to stay up one night and watch a movie with him.

"What?"

"Do you want to watch this with me," Ron repeats slowly, like he is talking to a particularly slow child.

"Uh," Poiyo is about to say sure, because what could be better than watching a movie with Ron, but then he remembers _snuggling_ and _nope, don't want to deal with that._

"I'm a little tired," Poiyo says. "So I'm going to bed. But thanks for the offer."

"Alright. Goodnight, then." Ron smiles, his green eyes lighting up with something warm. Poiyo's stomach back-flips. It has done that a lot lately around Ron's smiles.

"Goodnight," Poiyo says, then he flees to his room.

A few nights later, the same thing happens. Ron asks him if he wants to stay up and watch new episodes of some TV show. Poiyo declines, using the same excuse, and Ron smiles again. More stomach flip-flops. Poiyo flees.

On Tuesday Poiyo decides to read for once. He is sitting in the living room when Ron walks in and sits next to him on the couch, placing two steaming-hot mugs of tea and a plate of cookies on the coffee table.

"Hi," Poiyo says.

"Thought you might be hungry."

As if on cue, his stomach growls. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"There weren't any dishes in the sink."

"Oh. I wasn't hungry earlier." Then he adds as an afterthought, "don't booby-trap the couch."

Ron picks up the plate of cookies and puts them in Poiyo's lap. The plate is really warm. "I won't."

"Did you just bake these?"

"Yeah." He grabs a cookie from the plate and Poiyo follows suit. "You have to be some sort of magical cookie fairy," Poiyo says. "Every time you walk into a kitchen you walk out with fresh cookies."

Ron looks at him. "A magical cookie fairy."

"Be glad I didn't say my mother."

"I'm glad."

"I don't think I could live with you being my mother," Poiyo says around bites of cookie.

"You could."

"Yeah right."

"Who gives you blankets and makes you breakfast?"

"My mom."

"You're right, I do."

"You're just a big softy." Ron looks at him and smiles forlornly, like he has a secret that Poiyo should know, but doesn't.

"Yeah, sure. But if you don't eat your vegetables I will hunt you down."

"I'll eat my vegetables."

Picking up his book with a smile on his face like it is permanently set there, Ron is honestly gorgeous. And for some reason, Poiyo actually has the energy to care about this.

Before he can think too much on beautiful black-haired green-eyed best friends - and he's realized Ron's hair is actually more midnight blue than black, which is odd, but he isn't really one to judge considering his own hair color - he picks up his book and distracts himself with whatever is on the page. It isn't long until the words begin to blur and he starts drifting.

He's really comfortable here, even though they're just sitting side-by-side, not even touching. He gives up on trying to read the book and lets his head fall back, hoping to collide with the couch so he can sleep, but instead collides with Ron's shoulder. Poiyo freezes, but Ron doesn't say anything, so he just remains there like that. Whatever, Poiyo thinks. He can chew me out over dinner.

It's Poiyo's turn to make it tonight. Recently they've devised an every-other-day-you make dinner schedule. It works, miraculously. And it's fun, in a companionable sort of way. Spaghetti has been banned, because the last time they had it Ron flung it across the table and hit Poiyo in the face, so, of course, a full-scale food fight ensued. Poiyo, despite being lazy with his aim, won by getting meat sauce in Ron's hair. They both agreed that the spaghetti fight was worth the fun, but they didn't want to scrub any more of it out of their clothes any time soon.

Poiyo has no idea why he suddenly remembers this, but he really doesn't care about why, because Ron is really comfortable.

"You're falling asleep," Ron says.

"I'm meditating."

"You don't meditate."

"Don't I?"

"No. I'm convinced that once you close your eyes, you're out. If you tried to meditate, and you wouldn't because you're _you_ , you'd fall asleep within in a minute."

"True."

"Sometimes I think sleeping is the only thing you're good at."

"That's nice dear."

And then Poiyo thinks: _cuddling,_ and he gets up as normally as possible and stretches, then heads for bed. He doesn't miss the confused look Ron shoots after him as he leaves.

The next day, Ron comes home from work and asks Poiyo if he wants to watch a movie. It's almost eight - that's too early for Poiyo to fall asleep, right? And even if it isn't, he's still got the movie to keep him awake.

"Okay," Poiyo says. "I'll make popcorn."

It's funny to see Ron so surprised, presumably at the thought of Poiyo doing anything that requires effort and isn't strictly necessary for survival. He pulled that look when they'd set up the dinner system, and before that, when Poiyo woke up at eight - which somehow occasionally still happens.

When the popcorn is done, he goes into the living room and sits next to Ron, who is already on the couch. He shoves away the memory of nearly falling asleep on him, and grabs a handful of popcorn as Ron starts the movie. About halfway through, the starts to drift.

He feels it happening; feels the way he slowly sinks into the couch and closer to Ron, but he can't do anything about it. And then he's out.

He wakes up at the end of the movie, and is completely out of it. He'd cuddled into Ron's side and abducted his arm for cuddle purposes. Said cuddle object gently grabs his hand, and the owner of that hand is about to say something, but Poiyo cuts him off.

"I should go to bed."

"Poiyo -" but Poiyo is already standing, and he flees before Ron can finish his sentence. As he heads upstairs, he thinks he is going to have to be way more careful from now on out.

In the morning, Ron acts like nothing happened, and sets a plate of eggs and toast at Poiyo's place on the table before he's out the door for work. It'll be Poiyo's turn to make breakfast tomorrow. So far, everything is completely normal.

That evening when Ron returns from work, they eat dinner and then Ron asks something that comes completely out of left field.

"Have you ever read Harry Potter?"

Poiyo stops chewing mid-bite. "No, I haven't."

If Ron's eyebrows could raise any higher, Poiyo would no longer think he was human. "Wow."

"Shut up."

"I'll read a couple of chapters to you after dinner, if you want," Ron says neutrally, and Poiyo is sure that he is only pretending to be that interested in his mashed potatoes.

"Alright," says Poiyo, because to hell with being careful, Ron is finally going to read to him, and Poiyo has secretly wanted him to do that since he moved in.

They finish dinner as they normally would, and put their dishes in the dishwasher - a feat Ron convinced Poiyo was easier in the long run than just throwing them in the sink. Then they head into the living room and sit together on the couch, Ron grabbing the book off of the small bookshelf that appeared in the apartment about a week after he moved in. It's on the far wall, just close enough to where he's sitting that he only has to stretch to reach it. Then Ron puts an arm around Poiyo's shoulders and drags him in against him. Poiyo stiffens, but slowly relaxes as Ron begins to read.

About two chapters in Poiyo closes his eyes and just listens to the sound of Ron's voice, feeling his heartbeat through his side.

He doesn't realize he fell asleep until he wakes up. It's dark, but he can tell he is definitely sprawled out over someone. Ron. Apparently they'd both fallen asleep at some point, because Ron is quiet, breathing evenly. Poiyo's head is pillowed on his chest, and Ron's arm is draped across his back, holding Poiyo to him. The book is closed and resting on top of the coffee table, the flap of the book cover protector tucked in between the pages. And Ron is so _warm_.

Poiyo feels more than he hears Ron stir. Before Ron can realize that they were cuddling, he jumps up and runs upstairs. He isn't freaking out. He just needs some space.

Upon reaching his room, he collapses on his bed, crawls under the covers - which are really _cold_ \- and wills himself to fall asleep before Ron finds him and asks about what happened.

The next day, Poiyo wakes up at six. _Thank God._ He's pretty sure Ron's still asleep. He tiptoes downstairs and quietly makes breakfast, putting the leftovers in the fridge for Ron and leaving a note on the notepad in the middle of the table they'd bought for just this purpose.

 _Woke up early. Going back to bed. Leftovers are in the fridge._

He doesn't acknowledge that he woke up early to avoid Ron. He continues to not acknowledge it when he works overtime and then goes straight to bed without sparing a passing glance at him, who he thinks is on the phone with someone anyway.

For three days Poiyo avoids Ron, and he does a really good job of not accidentally running into him or seeing him at all.

There's a knock at the foyer door on Saturday. Ron went to work, leaving a note about a meeting or something, so Poiyo is left to answer the door. He doesn't even question who it might be, just answers the knock and goes completely straight-faced when he sees who it is.

"Poine."

"Hi, idiot." Poine pushes past him and into the foyer. Poiyo just closes the door and follows her inside.

"I'm working," he says.

"Yeah right," she says. "Unless you're working on a punch to the gut. Then yeah, you're working. Very diligently."

"It's good to see you."

"Been too long," she drapes herself over the arm of the couch, "but it's good to see you too." Poiyo sits next to her and she looks at him. Then she says something that

"So, you've been avoiding Ron."

 _She knows,_ he thinks. _Oh my God she_ knows _. How does she_ know _?_

"And," she continues, "you've been avoiding me."

"No I haven't," Poiyo says.

"You haven't called in a month. I was fine with it because you two -" she motions between two invisible people with her fingers, meaning him and Ron, "- were getting along famously. Which was great. And then you _did_ something. I don't know _what_ you did, but I'm sure it was stupid."

Poiyo doesn't say anything for a minute, then decides to tell her what is going on, because he knows she will press until she figures it out.

"I fell asleep on him," he says carefully.

Poine looks at him like he's particularly slow. Then she says, "that's it?"

"Yeah." He gets the feeling that he is missing something.

"You're not serious."

"I'm serious."

"You're an idiot."

Poiyo gives her a look that he hopes warrants an explanation for the insult.

"For lots of reasons," she says. "But primarily because you're freaking out over _nothing_."

"I don't want to know the other reasons."

Poine just rubs her eyes, the epitome of showing hard-core exasperation.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Poiyo asks.

"Something told me you were messing things up. I'm here to tell you to stop."

"And you missed me."

"No," she says. "I didn't. I hate you. If I owned a gun I'd have killed you last week. But not before I forced you to tell Ron you want to date him."

Poiyo blanches. Poine smiles. It's terrifying.

"I know," she says.

"Poine, he doesn't want to date me."

"Are you sure?"

"No."

"Ask him out."

"Poine -"

"Don't Poine me."

"He _doesn't_."

"You don't know that. So don't decide for him," she says. Poiyo almost protests again, but then he stops and thinks about what she said for a moment.

"Alright," he can see the sense in what she's saying, so he concedes. And gave up on saying no to her a long time ago anyway. "I'll ask him."

"Good," she says. "Want to watch a movie? I'll make the popcorn."

"Okay."

She goes to put the popcorn in the microwave, and when it's done, she comes back in and sits next to him on the couch. They both grab a handful of popcorn and watch the previews flick by.

Poine leaves just before Ron returns - she says something about a sink and lasagna before she goes. Poiyo doesn't know _what_ that could mean, so he decides he doesn't want to know and lets it be.

Before Poiyo can even think about how to tell Ron that he really wants to kiss him, Ron corners Poiyo in the kitchen. Poiyo looks into his eyes - which are so green - and feels really bad because he knows that Ron was hurt by his sudden avoidance.

"Poiyo," he says. "We should talk."

Poiyo doesn't object, because Ron has him cornered. He really wasn't planning on leaving anyway.

"You've been avoiding me."

It isn't a question.

"Yeah," says Poiyo nervously.

"Is it because you fell asleep on me the other night?"

Poiyo doesn't say anything, even though he's sure his silence is just as good as any admission.

"Why are you upset?"

"You're not?"

Ron shakes his head, "no. I'm not."

"I have a habit of falling asleep on people," Poiyo blurts. "And I cuddle and make everything awkward."

"It isn't awkward."

Poiyo still doesn't say anything, not quite believing he heard that. Suddenly, Ron smiles.

"Want to watch a movie with me?"

"Uh," Poiyo says intelligently. _What just happened?_

"It's fine if you fall asleep. Please?"

Poiyo caves. "I'll try not to -"

"It's fine."

"But Ron -"

Ron grabs his hand and gently tugs him into the living room, picks out a DVD from the rack in front of the TV, and puts it into the DVD player. Poiyo falls onto the couch and sinks into it. A moment later, Ron joins him and pulls Poiyo into his side. His head is on Ron's shoulder, and Ron's arm is draped over him. Despite his best efforts, he is asleep within minutes.

He wakes up facing Ron, head buried under his chin, one arm pressed between them just below his chin and the other around Ron's waist. Their legs are entwined, and Ron's arms are encircling his lower back. There is barely an inch of space between them.

Ron wakes, but before Poiyo can put distance between them, Ron pulls him in closer. Poiyo doesn't know what to say or think.

"Good morning," Ron says, voice gravelly from sleep, sleepy smile on his face, and Poiyo's breath catches. Ron is _adorable._ And then Ron leans down and kisses Poiyo's forehead.

Poiyo, in a shocked daze, says "what?"

"I said good morning."

"After that."

Ron looks at him, all bleary-eyed with sleep, _adorable,_ and still manages to pull of a 'you're being incredibly slow' look. It reminds him vaguely of Poine. Then something clicks, and Poiyo thinks: _Oh._

"You like me."

Ron nods slowly. "Yeah."

"How did I miss that."

"I don't know. Poine said it was obvious."

"No it wasn- When did you talk to Poine?" Poiyo asks. Then something else clicks.

"Oh. She set us up."

Ron pauses. "Probably," he says. His expression is guarded, and Poiyo realizes that he still hasn't confirmed that yes, he likes Ron and yes, they should go somewhere nice together and kiss and hold hands and etcetera. Poiyo leans up and kisses him.

"I like you, too."

"We're idiots," Ron says.

"Yeah." Poiyo couldn't care less, especially when Ron leans down to kiss him back.

_ _epilogue_ _

Later in the day, Poine calls. Poiyo picks up the phone.

 _"How are my two favorite idiots today."_

"Great."

 _"Finally. He called me a day or two ago."_

"He told me."

 _"You're both very oblivious."_ Poiyo knows she's smiling.

"We figured it out."

Poine laughs. _"What would you do without me."_

"Live alone in a pit of debt."

 _"Without a boyfriend."_

"Don't flatter yourself."

 _"I'm not flattering myself."_

"I have to go finish lunch."

 _"Okay. Later,_ darling _. Say hi to Ron for me."_

"I will." He hangs up and goes back into the dining room.

"That was Poine," he tells Ron when he sits down at the table. "She says hi."

"Did she call to brag?"

"Yeah."

"Of course she did." And Ron leans across the table and kisses him. The angle is awkward, but Poiyo doesn't care. Too soon after their lips meet, they part; Ron smiles at him like he's the most beautiful person, and Poiyo knows he's returning that smile with one of his own.

Somehow they both silently agree on finishing Harry Potter - or as much of it as they can before Poiyo falls asleep. Poiyo's on chapter seventeen already, and thinks that it's funny there's a Ron in that book even though his Ron and the book's are nothing like each other. They sit on the couch together, Ron picking the book up off of the coffee table, Poiyo getting comfortable, until Ron leans back into the couch and asks, "what chapter are you on?"

"Seventeen."

"Think it's a good book?"

"Yeah."

Poiyo cuddles into him before Ron even flips the book open, and this time it's not an accident.

* * *

More notes: This is the first story I've ever written and actually finished. I'm sort-of proud and just a little relieved that it's _done_. Please offer criticism; I'm looking for ways to improve my writing style.


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